


When it Rains it Pours

by VanessaSQuest



Series: Frequency-verse [7]
Category: Jonny Quest, The Real Adventures of Jonny Quest
Genre: Depression, F/M, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 02:30:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17572613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VanessaSQuest/pseuds/VanessaSQuest
Summary: Jonny finally reads the writing on the walls that his dad and Race have been more than friends for a while, but can he look past his own trauma to appreciate it?





	When it Rains it Pours

When it Rains it Pours by Vanessa S. Quest  
As he stared off into the water, he wondered how his life had veered so far off tilt.  
He remembered so fondly the memories of his mom and dad, a board game, a box of pizza, a 2-liter of root beer, and a ginormous container of salad and breadsticks as the music played and they’d just have a family night.  
How the hell had it turned so far from that? He rubbed at the tears in his eyes, he didn’t want to cry, he felt resolved. He had no idea just when or how it had happened, but if it had happened it would un-happen too… happiness was so fickle that way. He’d been happy before too, and then it disappeared so violently from him.  
And for what? Why would his dad risk the only bit of stability and security Jonny’d ever known?!  
He swallowed painfully, his chest felt impossibly tight, seeing that had made him remember things he’d all but sworn were just nightmares that never really happened, but those sounds, those sounds! He knew exactly what those kind of animalistic grunts meant, the pain that they triggered—even if his dad and Race didn’t look like they were in pain, he couldn’t trust that one of them wasn’t somehow being victimized. He remembered all too well in a short burst what teeth on his chest felt like, what that intense pressure and that tearing feeling that cut to his core felt like.  
Had Race betrayed he and his dad, or had his dad betrayed Race? He couldn’t even be sure, but he knew one if not both of them had personally betrayed him and worse! His mother.  
He coiled his arms tightly around himself as he cranked up the water to scalding and rocked inside the shower, sobbing under the stream.  
It was different when it was Hadji and Jessie—he knew teenagers fucked, he’d seen rom-coms and high school movies, he was sheltered but it wasn’t outside of the realm of possibilities… but his dad was straight—married with a kid—so was Race! Hell, he knew Race had bonked Jade a handful of times in his youth, too. And there’d been women who’d thrown themselves at his dad lots of times before, too! It wasn’t that there weren’t options for them, for crying out loud!  
Would Race leave them now? Or whenever he got tired of a substitute for a woman—or would his dad marry someone, oh god, what if they got married?! Then he’d be related to Jessie—Hadji would be related to her too!  
He shook his head. His entire life, he’d gone without ever walking in on adults… doing it. Hadji and Jessie even had the decency to be on the down-low… he gagged as his stomach roiled on him.  
‘Scream for me, it makes it better…’  
Jonny’s eyes rolled back as he remembered that son of a bitch, Ali, and just like that, he was 12, alone with a monster, and all the pain was back in that very instance being relived a thousand times.  
There was a pounding at the door that he was sure was really his heart.  
“Kiddo… you’ve been in there for over an hour, are you okay?” Race asked, keenly listening to the door. “Panchita said it sounded like you’re upset… Jonny, what’s wrong?” He knocked more forcefully.  
The hiccupping sob Jonny tried to strangle from escaping all but cast the di as Race took up the resolve to address it.  
“Jess, go get Dr. Quest, ask him to meet us in Jonny’s room.” He said more to clear the hallway than to actually get Benton to head over. He shouldered the thick door and popped the locking mechanism from the door-jam, a trick he’d learned a long time ago when the boys had accidentally locked the bathroom door on the way out.  
“…Fur on a catfish, kiddo! What in heck is going on?” He sputtered as he spotted Jonny, his arms scratched near raw by his own fingernails as he stayed in scalding hot water—fully dressed. Race didn’t like that implication. Something had triggered this, his hand found the faucet and cut the water, the steam had obscured all the mirrors in a thick grey of vapor. The teenager was distraught, he’d been subdued all day, at first Race had thought he was under the weather, but now he knew it was a hell of a lot more nefarious than that!  
He pulled the king-towel and wrapped it around the teen and was alarmed to feel him struggle against the grip.  
“Kiddo, you need to get out of the shower, now.”  
“Don’t touch me! Pigs… you sounded like pigs…” He let out a screech, and Race’s face fell.  
“Oh god, Jonny…” his voice softened, had he only heard or had he seen, too? “Jonny, it’s not like that.”  
He didn’t like that the kid was still trying to scratch himself right in front of him, rocking himself.  
“I can’t leave you in here hurting yourself. Stop. If you really don’t want me to touch you, you gotta stop scratching yourself or I won’t have a choice.”  
Jonny glared at him, “The choice to fuck my dad? That choice?! When did you start? Was it before…” he gagged, “Did my mother know?”  
Race swiped a hand down his face, “Your father loves your mother, he and I… that came later. Much, much later. You saw him grieve too.”  
“…Oh I bet you came later…” he spat, crushing his nails into the skin of his arms.  
He bit his bottom lip, “I’m telling you, you have to stop, I’m going to pick you up.” He leaned into the reach of the tub and tugged Jonny upward into a standing position. His grip was strategic at his wrists to keep his hands from doing any more damage, but damn was it hard to see the kid a balling mess.  
They’d talked about this possibility. At great lengths, about what would happen if Jonny felt his confidence betrayed—the teen was sensitive, but it had always been a crux. After the boy had been raped, how that would have shaped his very perception of sex, let alone gay sex… they’d pushed it off, decided they’d talk to him about it when he seemed capable of understanding those dynamics, and apparently they’d overshot their gee-dee window.  
“Hey Doc, could you come here for a minute?” Race called down the hallway.  
The sounds of footfalls echoed, pounded in Jonny’s ears, “Stop it… stop…”  
Race swiveled him into the closest passable chair the bathroom had—the commode. “Trust me, kiddo, I would like nothing more than to be able to respect your personal space right this second, but looking at you, I know I can’t. If I let go of your hands, I know what that look on your face is telling me and I can’t.”  
“Trust you?! How could either of you—” he bit out shakily. The violent thrumming tremor in his arms made Race more nervous than he’d let on.  
“What’s with the commotion?” Benton asked with a level, gentle smile as he entered the cramped restroom.  
“You fucking bastards!” Jonny shouted heatedly, “Did you at least turn over my mother’s picture?!”  
His father’s face similarly faltered. “…Son?”  
Race found a very interesting corner to lock eyes on, he had to regain control of this situation, he had to get Jonny to calm down. “Doc, Jonny’s a touch upset, and while I think we should all take a moment to discuss his feelings, he’s scratched up his arms pretty good and could probably use something to help take the edge off.”  
“By edge off…”  
“Jonny, would you take a Xanax? You’re very upset.”  
“…I’d take the whole bottle…” Jonny warned with dripping venom.  
“Yeah, that’s not really an option. Would you take one?” Race said in a cooled voice. He had never thought the kid would be a hard-liner like that. “If you take it, once you calm down, I can stop pinning your arms.” Race bartered.  
He saw the nod he’d been praying for.  
“Good! Good, Benton, could you get Jonny that Xanax and some water?”  
“…Certainly.” He said in an equally stoic voice. The sound of his gait as he traversed the hall and the soft click of his cane as he returned only a few moments later seemed to chase the insanity from Jonny’s eyes, that or maybe it was the disruption of his own masochism for long enough that he realized the dull ache he’d inflicted.  
Benton extended his hand with a singular pill and a paper cup of water, neither men foolish enough to trust a highly resourceful, highly agitated teen with something weighty enough to cause damage like a glass.  
Race let go of Jonny’s dominant left hand to let him take up the pill, freeing it from his dad’s hand and quickly popping it, he dry-swallowed it then downed the water anyway.  
In that moment, Benton saw the red marks that he’d scrawled from wrist to his upper arms, at least a peek of it.  
“May I make the suggestion that you change into dry pajamas?” Benton said in a voice that did not sound like a suggestion at all.  
“…” Race had thoughts on the matter, namely that he didn’t want Jonny out of his sights until that pill kicked in and he didn’t seem likely to toss himself off a cliff or dash himself into traffic. His father pulled over a set of pajamas that he’d apparently already procured.  
Jonny glared at them silently, shook his head. “How could you?”  
His father locked eyes with his son, “How could I what, son? Form a new relationship? Move on with my life?”  
Jonny clenched his teeth.  
“We’re two consenting adults, while I recognize it might be …difficult for you to fully understand those dynamics, well, frankly our sex lives aren’t particularly your concern.”  
Race hadn’t counted on Benton taking the hard-line approach, though he supposed he probably should have, he’d always had the softer touch when it came to Jonny’s feeling. He kept his eyes pinned on Jonny’s even as the young teen glared daggers at his dad.  
“…Jonny, I’m going to let go, let’s just… talk this through.” Race said as his actions mirrored his words. “You should put something dry on. I’m going to step out and put on a kettle. You’d drink some tea if I made it, right?”  
The teen glared through his father, “No. I don’t want tea.” he swallowed thickly.  
“Then how about cocoa?” Race tried again, “I get it. It’s a pretty big shock to find that out, and it wasn’t how your dad and I wanted to talk to you about it… but the cat’s outta the bag, so now we just need to discuss this.”  
“No, we don’t.” The teen shot back just as defiantly as Race had spoken levelly. “I don’t need to talk to either of you about this.”  
“I beg to differ.” Benton crossed his arms, blew out a sigh, “Race, I think tea is a wonderful idea, we’ll meet you in my study in a few minutes.”  
“Alright. If you need anything give a holler…”  
“You both already did.” Jonny informed him guilelessly. He shivered as he curled into himself as he grimaced.  
Both adults exchanged a troubled look, it was clear he was reliving something they’d thought he’d put behind him.  
His father gave him a wary look. He’d waited out the Xanax, and after another fifteen minutes could see it was taking full effect. “Please put those pajamas on, you’ll feel better in dry clothes.”  
“How could you?” He let out in a gravelly rasp. “Do Jessie and Hadji know? …Estella? How about Jade?”  
The teen swallowed down the lump. “Or Mr. Korvin, or Mr. Bennett for that matter?”  
Benton rolled his eyes, “That’s irrelevant, well; I suppose you’d find relevance in Jessie and Hadji being aware or unaware, but I won’t exchange barbs about this. Please get changed, I’ll be the study waiting for you to discuss what you saw.”  
Jonny nodded once, once he was alone in the bathroom again, he curled deeper into his knees to hug himself suddenly feeling very, very alone.  
-JQ-  
After another few minutes, he did decide to put on the dry pajamas, the chill from his wet clothing becoming more and more unbearable as the bathroom cooled at the loss of the steam.  
He shuffled into the study as if wading toward an inevitable lecture about his own moral failings, which was bullshit because he’d never morally failed his wife by sleeping with the man that had been assigned to protect his goddamned family, and frankly, that seemed inappropriate to be lectured on not accepting that as a shortcoming!  
Oh god, did Hadji and Jessie know? He didn’t have the heart to break it to them… would they be as utterly crushed as he was? He suddenly had very real questions about all those times his dad and Race had shared tents and just how long this had been going on for?!  
He saw the picture of his mother, prominently displayed with the other family photos on the wall, and felt ashamed for her.  
The sense of being ushered into the study by Race holding a tea tray was entirely unpleasant, though he’d done a similar gesture a handful of times when he was acting as a buffer for his dad in the past, a harbinger of uncomfortable truths like when he’d been told Jessie was moving in, or that his paternal grandparents had died—as if he’d known either of them all that well! Or the time he heard that that pig-rapist bastard was being transferred to…  
His stomach roiled, he could feel that son of a bitch on his skin and that in and of itself was too much. Everything else was beyond the pale. He couldn’t talk to anyone about this now. It was like being defiled all over again, to feel that rakish touch and not have anyone to talk it through to dispel… subconsciously, his hands returned to their previous picking motions.  
“Kiddo, you gotta stop that…” Race said gently. “You’re hurting yourself.”  
Jonny’s eyes scanned upward to meet Race’s doe-brown eyes, “…” He shoved his hands into his pajama pockets as Race nudged him into the study.  
The teen took an uncomfortable seat on the couch in the study, at least Race and his dad had spaced themselves, he wasn’t sure what he’d even do if they’d been in close proximity—if they’d cuddled or showed any form of intimacy in front of him. He couldn’t think of them ever doing that in the past, so how the hell had they had that kind of accidental discovery?!  
Had it been cold one night in the tent? Was it one long flight too many? …Oh god, was it his fault? One too many bed-side vigils and emotional venting?  
“How long.” Jonny non-asked, once that baseline was established, he’d at least know where he stood.  
“…Emotionally or physically?” Came the coldly scientific rebuttal courtesy of his dad.  
“Benton.” Race chided, “Jonny, it was gradual, but your dad and I have been together for years.”  
Jonny redirected his look to his dad and asked again, “How long, dad.”  
His dad gave him a withering look, “A little after Hadji joined the family. It wasn’t over-night and we’ve had on and off periods.”  
Jonny swallowed thickly, “Were those periods when you dabbled with Jade?” He turned to look at Race.  
“On some, yes.” Race wasn’t sure he really wanted the teen spelunking into his sexual mores, but he wasn’t willing to lie, either.  
“…” The teen frowned, “Are you both gay?”  
“Neither of us are gay.” Benton said matter-of-factly, “Bisexual, yes, but not gay.”  
“…Did mom know you’re gay?” He turned to look at his dad again, not keen on the distinction. He was fucking another man, that was gay.  
“I’m not gay, I’m bisexual, and no, we hadn’t ever discussed it. I didn’t realize I was until after she died.” He looked over the room, no helping the awkwardness of the conversation, “I realized I was after I’d entertained the notion of getting back into the field when you were 9. I looked around, saw there were people I was physically attracted to, but no one sparked that passion in me…”  
“…Is that what you did on those conferences I couldn’t go on?” Jonny crossed his arms defensively. It made sense, that probably was why.  
“On some of them, yes. There were even a few times I entertained company when you were there too. Are you upset that I’m dating again, or that I’m with Race?”  
“You lied to me. Both of you did. Lies of omissions are still lies.” He said in a deeply hurt tone. “…And I saw you two,” he gripped his biceps as his eyes darkened. “…heard you…”  
“We should have spoken to you about it before, and I apologize for that. I do, but the dynamics didn’t change.”  
“THAT ISN’T UP TO YOU TO DECIDE!” Jonny seethed, “I feel they changed! I feel they changed a lot.”  
Benton leaned back into his desk, “How’s that?”  
Jonny shook his head. “You were with Kathy for a year and change, then suddenly she got cold feet—did you cheat on her?”  
“No, I did not. She and I grew in different directions. What she valued and desired out of life… it wasn’t compatible. It was on amicable terms, but she didn’t have the same mobility in her career as my career demands, and we were seeing each other less and less, and then not at all, and then one day she called and asked if I even still wanted to marry her—and I asked her if she still wanted to marry me, and she said no.”  
“And then you turned gay?”  
His eyeroll was almost audible. “I did not turn gay, I’ve had bisexual tendencies since high-school, I just seldom found men I was interested in.”  
“What about you, Race? You used to sleep through the catalog…”  
“Damn it, Jonny, I didn’t raise you to be disrespectful!” His father started in.  
“You also told me not to lie, and he has. What?! Am I supposed to not hear Estella and Jade when they fought about it? He cheated on both of them. I mean, I guess he has a type in redheads, that’s consistent at least.” He put his head in his hands, the tremble obfuscated by the action.  
“Benton,” Race held up a hand, “Yeah I was a lot less admirable, Jonny. I can’t say I was a monogamist, and I can’t say I was always as open about it as I should’ve been, but break-downs in communication are a two-way street. Learning to discuss wants and needs doesn’t just materialize. I’ve grown in a lot of ways from even five years ago. A lot of that is because of your dad and you too, believe it or not. And I might not be your favorite person right this second, but it doesn’t change how I feel toward you or your dad. I love your dad.”  
“And I love you as well, Race.” Benton added in, “And that doesn’t replace the love I have for Rachel, Jonny.”  
Race pressed a cup of slightly-warmer than lukewarm tea into the teen’s hand. “We haven’t been hiding it from you kids, but we also didn’t go around flaunting it. There were plenty of gestures, clues, suggestive moments… and I know you’ve picked up on some of them, so kiddo, why were you in the shower crying?”  
The teen’s eyes sharpened. It was information overload, and he was fading fast as the medication took effect.   
Water began to pour from the cerulean depths as he relived one of the worst experiences in his life.  
Race put a firm hand on Jonny’s shoulder to wait him out, Benton put his own glass of tea down as he watched the way he emoted, they’d suspected he’d been holding in some of the trauma from what happened to him at 12, but it didn’t make it any easier to see it spell out across his face.  
His mouth gaped into blubs of half-formed words that he couldn’t articulate until the dam broke and they flooded over each other almost too rapidly to catch.  
“…It was that nightmare again… and I went to find someone… and then I did find someone… and you two were making the same sounds… and then… and…” he let out a wail as he dropped his head into his knees, Race draped his arm across Jonny’s back to sooth him.  
“Jonny, you’re safe here, you know that don’t you?” Race reassured, thankful to any god in the pantheon willing to take credit for the teen’s rapid-fire nodding.  
“…but…” He shook his head, too afraid to say it.  
“Don’t hold that in. Why were you scratching yourself?” He gently tugged at Jonny’s arms as if to demonstrate to the teenager how badly he’d hurt himself. “Why would you do that to your own body, kiddo?”  
“To get him off me… I couldn’t… couldn’t get it out of my skin… and the sounds…”  
He felt his father’s hands cup his cheeks and press his face upward to look at him.  
“We should have had this discussion a long, long time ago, son. What happened to you was not sex. What that was was sadism, it was violence. It was coerced, and it was repugnant, but that is not what consensual sex is. It’s nothing alike. None of those feelings are remotely similar.”  
“…But you’re both men…” Jonny reiterated.  
“That’s inconsequential. Consensual sex and rape are never the same, and non-consensual sex can happen in any combination, women can rape and men can be raped. It’s a sad reality that no one is immune to that awful possibility, but I can promise you, neither Race nor I have ever felt coerced in our relationship. It is at-will, and Race is 100% right, you’re safe here. That son of bitch will never have a chance to be near you ever again.” He momentarily regretted how sheltered his son was from certain inter-personal relations to be so unaware of the vast difference between love and that vileness, or hell, even lust. “…I don’t want to embarrass you with the subject, and I know this very well may, but Hadji and I had the talk about sex when he was 13. I did defer that conversation with you due to what you endured, Hadji recognized that Race and I were together even before then. We also know he and Jessie are… well, hmm.” He wasn’t sure if it was particularly appropriate to discuss their sex lives with his youngest, “is at their discretion.”  
“…I know they have sex, dad. They’ve been sneaking around for months.” Jonny said in mild embarrassment, though that was a drop in the bucket compared to everything else.  
“And it’s fine if and when you decide to have intercourse as long as it’s consensual. In fact, there is a supply of condoms and lubricants and a plethora of supplies that you may or may not choose to use at your disposal squirreled away underneath the cabinet in each of the upstairs bathrooms. Mrs. Evans so kindly replenishes them so as to preserve the privacy of everyone involved.”  
His son turned beet-red in response, which he’d anticipated, but wasn’t sure how to fully mitigate.  
“You’re a teenager so, yes, this is a mortifying conversation especially when it’s with your dad and when it’s about the realization that parents are human beings and have the same biological needs as other humans, but son, you’ve always been raised to respect knowledge as a tool and to use it accordingly. I do apologize profusely that our own lack of discretion caused you any upset, and going forward we’ll be more mindful to lock doors. That’s all we can really do. Have you calmed down though? It’s worrisome that you hurt your arms.”  
His tongue laden and thick, he tried to shove out the words from his throat with more difficulty than he anticipated. “…I… I didn’t mean to lash out at you both…” he lowered his head, “It’s a lot to take in.”  
“It is but it isn’t, Jonny.”  
He shook his head, “I know in your perspective it’s no different—but there is a difference in someone being a second father-figure and someone being a step-father.” He shook his head, “It’s not semantics, it hurts that you didn’t tell me. It hurt to discover it that way. Whether you had reasons to shield me or not, it hurt; I don’t want either of you to be unhappy, but right now… I… I’m going to my room, and no I don’t want to hear about a fishbowl of condoms in the bathrooms and how two of my best school friends’ mom changes them out! It makes me feel like the butt of a joke, so no, right now, I’m not okay and it is a lot to take in. I’m not trying to be bratty or obstinate,” the teen lowered his head and let out a shaky breath. “…I need to collect my thoughts.”  
“Alright, then we’ll check on you in a little while.”  
The teen frowned harder, looking at his arms he could hardly tell them not to, he recognized that, but all the same he really needed to decompress.  
“Race, I didn’t mean anything by what I said… I really was just stating facts…”  
“Kiddo, I have thicker skin than that. There’s no need to worry there.”  
He nodded.  
“Thanks.” Pushing himself upward and off the couch, Jonny shuffled back into the hallway and into his bedroom, dimmed the lights, and curled onto his stomach as he soaked in what they’d said.  
There had been so many easter-eggs, had he really just been willfully ignoring them, or was that the veil of childhood naivety? Was he being immature or was this one of those stages in adolescence where he just had to go through it and all of its cringe-worthy awkwardness?  
He almost wanted to cry, but it could have been worse. At least he didn’t walk into them having particularly weird sex. He didn’t know what he’d have done if they’d been into bondage, or some kinky shit like that.  
The glib thought that he was at least luckier than his friend TK helped coax him toward semi-comfortable numbness, as the brunette had told him of the misfortune of learning his father was a fetishist and his mother had left him because she couldn’t deal with the masks anymore.  
-FIN-


End file.
